Notes

I write everything down. I spent part of my evening yesterday sifting through the memos on my phone, little bits of things I observe each day. Maybe some quote that I found or a description of a person I saw on the bus. Funnily enough, I'm writing this post as I'm supposed to be working on next issue's article. I can never seem to focus enough.

Here's a really interesting thing I found written in a memo:

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It's easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven't even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

- Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story

I first read Chuck Klosterman's book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs in my first year of university. I remember being really pleased with myself because, not only was I reading a book that was not a novel for the first time in forever, but it seemed to impress this boy that I liked at the time. I bought the thing from Urban Outfitters, though, so I don't know if that makes me more or less of a scumbag. Probably more.

Anyways, here's a nice photo of Fry by the waterfront. We went for a long walk yesterday and he had a staredown with a Schnoodle. It was adorable. 

Also, this picture encompasses a lot of the reasons why I love living where I live.